The Other Half
by singerme
Summary: Set before season one.
1. Chapter 1

**THE OTHER HALF**

I don't own these characters; I just like to spend time with them. No other profit to be had than that.

******Author's note: I apologize for my previous display of temper. I was being as un-Gunsmoke like as I accused others for being. ********For those of you, who have been nothing but wonderful to me, despite my flaws, (Too many to name you all) I love you guys and thank you. This is for you, if no one else.**

**MKMKMKMKMKMKMKMKMKMKMKMKMKMKMK**

******Setting is before Season 1**

Matt Dillon strode boldly down the boardwalk, on his way to Delmonico's paying attention to everything and nothing as he made his way through his town. He smiled at that thought. Though young, he was a full fledged US Marshal with a whole town as his responsibility. That thought was both daunting and exhilarating at the same time. Of course, in its present, rain drenched state, it didn't look like much, but it was his.

The rain, that had started out as a slow trickle and turned into a gully washer, as Chester would say, had now slowed again. Though still raining, it wasn't coming down as hard and it looked like before long, it just might stop entirely. Dodge wasn't all that bad, to his way of thinking, when the sun was out.

Passing Sally Ann Trimble on his way, he nodded and touched the brim of his hat politely but he did not stop, earning a small glare from her as he passed. She had been less than pleased that, despite practically throwing herself at him at the last town dance, he hadn't followed up on their own dance and taken things further.

He had no need of a girlfriend. Lee, Cara and a few others had taught him the folly of getting involved with a woman while he wore the badge. Though he had come close to proposing to Lee, he, in the end, couldn't do it. He loved Lee, but not the all consuming, passionate love that he thought he should have for the woman who would be his wife. And Lee was not quite so willing to share him with his other love, his badge. She had declared he would need to choose between them.

He did.

Shaking his head at the memory, he thought about the day she had walked past him, her hand holding tightly to Tim Jackson's, a smug smile on her face as she nodded to him. It wasn't long after that, he'd heard she and Tim had married. Well, he wished her well. She deserved the best.

Besides, Matt knew if he needed female company, there was any number of ladies who would gladly oblige him without strings or money being exchanged. Though Matt was anything but egotistical, he knew women found him more than just a little attractive and would willing spend time with him.

Of course, he made certain that each of them understood that there would never be anything permanent between them and he would never marry. Most women accepted those terms, figuring a night with the dashing young Marshal was worth it. Those who didn't, weren't pressed by him and not a disparaging word was said by him about them.

As he walked, he dimly noted that the stage had arrived and the passengers were already off and scurrying through the rain to their various destinations. If he knew Jim Buck, the passengers leaving with him, would need to hurry. Jim didn't waste much time between pulling in and pulling out.

He was just a few doors down from the café, when he heard his name. Turning back, he saw Barney rushing towards him, yellow piece of paper clutched tightly in his outstretched hand.

"Marshal." Barney called as he rushed up to him, hurrying to get under the overhang, Matt was currently standing under. "I got a telegram for you. Sounded kinda urgent."

With a weary sigh, Matt accepted the paper, thanked the telegrapher for his prompt delivery and opened the wire to read. It was from the Sherriff in Hays. He had a prisoner he wanted Matt to come and pick up. Matt debated for a moment as to whether he should ride up there after breakfast, or abandon his meal and rush over to the stage office to secure passage on the soon to be leaving stage.

Matt's rumbling belly decided for him. Poking the paper into his pocket, Matt turned and went on down to the café.

If asked about it later, Matt wasn't sure he'd able to explain how, but as soon as he entered, he felt something. Just what that something was, he wasn't sure.

But if pressed, he would only be able to say that it felt like someone, or something, had tapped him on the shoulder and pointed his gaze in the direction of a woman, wet from the rain, sitting quietly by herself, eating a small breakfast of oatmeal, toast and coffee. A large carpet bag was sitting dispiritedly by her side, on a nearby chair. Probably everything she owned, Matt thought.

As he sat down at a table not far from her, he realized she was more girl than woman. But either way, she was the most beautiful female he had ever laid eyes on. With hair of red and eyes of blue, she nearly took his breath away. It took all of his concentration and will to keep from blatantly staring at her.

Joe appeared at his side as he sat down, filling a cup full of coffee for him. Matt gave the little man his order, and then sat back, surreptitiously studying the room and it's occupants, while waiting for his meal. A couple of times, he could have sworn he felt that little niggling feeling when someone's staring at you. But looking around, everyone, including the beautiful redhead, seemed to be occupied otherwise.

Shaking his head, at his own foolishness, Matt mentally shrugged and dug into the meal that Joe had just delivered to him. When he'd finally finished his meal, Matt threw some coins on the table and rose, casting one more small look at the stunning girl who was still there.

If she'd planned on taking the stage, she was now out of luck, as he saw it rumbling by a few minutes ago. For some reason that thought cheered him. If she wasn't taking the stage out, she just might still be in town when he got back from Hayes.

No sooner did that thought assail him, than he shook his head ruefully. That woman, or more likely girl, was a luxury he could ill afford. His job demanded that he stay alone and focused solely on it. No matter how stunning she was.

Clearing his head of all thoughts of beautiful redheaded girls, Matt walked down to the stable and claimed his horse, stopping at the jail only long enough to gather supplies and let Chester know where he was headed before he rode out.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Pt 2

Though routine in nature, transporting a man to prison was never easy, but Nate Collier was one of the toughest. So far, he'd managed to slip his ropes the first night out and had Matt not been awake, would've bashed his scull in with a rock. He'd also taken a chance of ramming his horse into Matt's and trying to push him down a steep slope. Matt had managed to control his horse and pull his gun, subduing the villain.

But not long after that, Collier tried again by launching himself from his saddle and onto Matt, knocking them both off their horses where they each fought desperately for control of the other. Once again, Matt prevailed, though barely.

Matt now had the man's hands tied securely to his saddle horn, and his feet securely tied under his horse's belly. The riding wasn't easy for the convicted bank robber, but it was a cinch, he wasn't going to find any more escape attempts easy.

As they rode, the short pudgy man with a full beard of dark blond hair, studied the lawman, he rode beside. Silent and stalwart, Dillon gave very little away about himself.

"Got ya woman, Lawman?" Collier asked, trying to see if he could rile the man in any way.

"Nope." Matt answered.

"Ya ain't?" Collier looked at the ruggedly handsome Marshal and found that difficult to believe. No expert on male beauty, he wasn't blind either. Dillon was tall, blue eyed and just what most women seemed to find attractive. It was hard to figure him without at least one female admirer.

Matt had already answered his prisoner's question, and he didn't find it necessary to answer again, so he remained silent. But Collier wasn't quite yet ready to give up his line of questioning.

"Man like you, has just gotta have at least one female at home, a pining for yer return. Tain't natural for a man not to have at least one on the hook."

Matt kept his silence, refusing to take the bait offered by the loathsome man beside him. His personal life, what little there was of it, was not open for discussion with anyone, especially not this bandit.

Collier studied the laconic man beside him for several long moments before speaking again. "Ya know, back in Abilene, they's a saloon down there had the prettiest little gal working for em that I ever did see. Had her some of the prettiest red hair and blue eyes and a figure just made for a man's hands to go around, if ya know what I mean. She were sure something special. Of course, she knew it too and she wouldn't take just any old boy up them stairs with her. No sir'ree. Most cowboys was out of the running, where she was concerned."

He looked over at the big man's face but so far, saw nothing. The marshal neither looked at him, or showed any expression what so ever. Collier prodded him a little more. "I, uh… I only mention that, cause I figure that's the kind of woman you'd probably have. Real pretty and cool like and only available to the highest bidder. You got that kind of woman, Dillon? Bet ya do. Ya probably just keeping her to yaself too, huh?"

Matt ignored his comments. "There's a small stream ahead." He pointed down the trail they were on. "It's getting late. We'll camp there for the night." His mind had involuntarily gone to the girl he'd seen in Delmonico's before he left and it irked him for some reason. He didn't want to think of that girl, any girl for that matter, but especially not that one. Just the thought of her could too easily distract him. And with a man like Collier, he couldn't afford to be distracted.

Once Matt picked the campsite, he pulled Collier off his horse and cuffed him by one hand to a sturdy tree branch. He had several bruises to prove that the convict couldn't be trusted.

Having done that, he quickly made a fire and a pot of coffee and some beans. Only after eating his own meal, did he release his prisoner, so that he too, could eat. Matt intended to keep constant watch on the man with nothing to take his eyes off of prisoner.

"Ya don't give a man much room, do ya, Lawman?" Collier grinned over at him.

"A man, yes." Matt answered pointedly. "But I'm not sure you qualify for that."

Collier's grin disappeared to be replaced by a snarl, as flipped his plate up and over at Matt. But Matt was ready for him, and easily dodged the plate. He couldn't, however, dodge the bandit that hurtled himself at him.

Both men went tumbling backwards and Matt landed on his back, his prisoner on top of him as Collier tried desperately to get his hands around Matt's neck. But Matt managed to knock one of the villain's hands free with a powerful forearm, and with the same hand punch him with one jarring blow to his jaw. Collier was knocked back but he wasn't done. Pulling back his arm, he aimed at Matt's face, but Matt blocked the punch and rolled just enough, to unseat his attacker.

Once Matt had Collier off of him, he grabbed him by the collar and punched him again, and yet again, until the fight was taken out of him and he feebly raised a hand in defeat. "E… nuf. Enuf." He gasped. "I cain't…"

Matt wearily got to his feet, pulling Collier up with him, and then pushed him back over to the tree, cuffing him to it securely and then tying a length of rope around him as an extra precaution. Looking down at the not-so-mighty bad guy, Matt pointed his finger. "You try that one more time, and you won't live long enough to see that prison."

Wisely, for once, Collier kept his mouth shut, resigned to staying put for the night. But they still had half a day's ride ahead of them till they reached the prison, surely he could think of something before then.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Pt. 3

Morning came none too early for the tied up outlaw, now sporting a number of bruises along his jaw line. He hadn't yet figured a way free, but he wasn't ready, just yet, to give up the fight. "Hey, Dillon!" He yelled as Matt prepared and ate breakfast, leaving Collier still tied. "Ain't ya gonna feed me? I gotta eat too, ya know. I gotta do more'n that as a matter of fact."

Matt turned slowly, looking at the convict through narrowed eyes. For several seconds he said nothing and didn't move, finally he walked over and removed the stout rope and un-cuffed only one of Collier's hands. "Do what you need to, I'll fix you a cup of coffee and some biscuits."

"Ah, come on, lawman." Collier protested. "I cain't do what I need with just one hand."

"Too bad," Matt gave a curt nod of the head. "That's all you get."

Turning his back, Matt grinned when he heard the bandit struggling with his pants and pulling frantically on the wrist that was still attached to the tree. But Matt knew he was securely bound and wasn't too worried about his attempting another attack. After a time, Matt saw, with some amusement, the man struggling to pull his pants back up. "Need any help?"

"You keep away from me, law dog. I don't need nothing from you but that there coffee, yer fixin'."

Matt shrugged. "Suit yourself. Beats me, how you're gonna hold your pants up and hold your coffee cup at the same time, but if you think you can do it…"

Collier glared mightily at Matt but didn't answer as he finally got his pants back up and at least one button done up. "Told ya, I don't need ya help."

"Reckon not." Matt agreed. Walking over to his prisoner, he handed him a cup of the coffee, making sure to stay out of kicking distance. He'd had all he wanted of fighting this man and he was granting him any more leeway for the rest of the trip. "Drink up, quick." Matt told him. "We'll be back on the road as soon as I get these horses saddled."

"What about my biscuit?" Collier grumbled.

"Oh, yeah," Matt grinned. Walking up, he placed it in the man's cuffed fist. "Better eat as quick as you drink."

"Hey! I cain't…" Collier let off of his protest when Matt turned and looked at him. He figured he'd pushed as far as should for right then. But the day was young yet, and he was still wasn't through trying.

Once camp was struck and the horses saddled, Matt finally released his prisoner from the tree only long enough to re-cuff his wrists in front of him and lead him to his horse. "Get on." He ordered.

Collier scowled at Matt but went to his horse and reached up to grip the saddle horn. It was then, he saw perhaps his last chance. Matt was standing just a little too close. Taking a tight grip, he kicked backwards, connecting solidly with Matt's midsection. When Matt fell backwards he whirled around, foot raised and ready to strike.

A shot from Matt's colt, stopped him in his tracks. Matt had managed to draw and fire as he fell. "Give me a reason." Matt grunted.

Collier didn't move and didn't speak, recognizing the murderous look in the law man's eyes.

"Collier," Matt said through gritted teeth as he got to his feet, pain radiating along his ribcage. "For two cents and a half, I'd bury you right here and now." He leveled the gun directly at his prisoner's head. "Get on that horse and don't try anything else, or I will haul you the rest of the way, tied across the saddle like a piece of meat."

Swallowing hard, he could tell the big man meant what he said. He mounted his horse with a sigh, knowing he'd probably lost his last chance at escape.

Once his prisoner was seated, Matt, denying himself the comfort of an arm wrapped around his injured ribs, stepped up and tied Collier's hands securely to the saddle horn, then looping a rope around one ankle, he tied it firmly to the other one, under the horse's belly.

Saying nothing, he grabbed the reins of Collier's horse, mounted his own and rode out.

As they rode, Collier studied the Marshal a little more. Although he continued to ride tall in the saddle and had made not one sound to indicate he was in pain, he saw the man wince ever so often when his horse stepped wrong. He might not get away from the lawman, like he'd planned, but at least he had the satisfaction of knowing he'd hurt him. And if he ever got out of that prison, he figured to look Dillon up and do a lot more than just hurt him.

Once Matt finally reached the prison, he wasted no time in hauling Collier in and turning him over. As he signed the paperwork, the warden looked him over. He didn't fail to notice, Matt's torn shirt and the way he favored his left side. "Looks like he gave you a hard time, Dillon."

"Nothing I couldn't handle, Warden." Matt said, glancing over at Collier. "He tried his best, but seeing as how he's staying and I'm not, I figure his best wasn't good enough." Matt didn't fail to see the scowl Collier turned his way and he left the office with a smug smile.

Outside of the prison, Matt walked down to the stable to claim his horse. Collier's horse would remain there. The guard who'd tended the buckskin while Matt was inside, grinned when he handed him the reins. "You ain't wasting no time in leaving, are you? Must have you a fine woman a waiting for you back home."

Matt took the reins and mounted his horse. His only reply was, 'Thank you', as he turned and rode out. He had no one waiting for him, probably never would. But he wanted it that way. If he'd learned nothing else from Adam Kimbro, it was that lawmen had no business marrying or having kids. But still, it would be nice, to just once, have the comfort of a woman that loved him, waiting eagerly for his return.

Shaking his head to clear it of that useless thought, Matt turned his horse for Dodge and rode. But when he camped that night, he dreamed of a beautiful girl with blue eyes and red hair and a smile meant only for him.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Pt. 4

"Hey, Chester." Doc called from the doorway of the jail. "I see Matt riding in. Ya get your chores done, did ya?"

Chester briefly glared at Doc as he stepped out onto the boardwalk and looked up the street to see him employer slowly loping down the street towards them. "I didn't have no chores, for your information. Mr. Dillon just told me to keep an eye on things."

"Which one?" Doc asked.

Chester's glare turned into a look of irritated puzzlement. "Which one, what?"

"Which eye did you use to watch over things?" Doc asked, scrubbing his mustache to hide a smile. "I know it couldn't be both of them, cause you've kept one of em on that pretty little new girl down at the Long Branch, most of the time."

Chester's expression softened a touch, at the mention of her. "She sure is pretty little ol' thing, ain't she, Doc."

Doc nodded in eager agreement. "Yeah, she sure is, Chester. But she's not interested in either one of us."

Chester's scowl returned as he looked over at Doc. "I know she wouldn't be interested in an old man like you but how do you know she ain't interested in me?"

"Oh, good heavens, Chester." It was Doc's turn to show irritation. "Anybody with eyes could tell that. That little girl is polite and just sweet as she can be, but she doesn't have that lo0k in her eyes, when she looks at you or me, or anyone else for that matter."

"What look?" Doc could sure be confusing at times.

"The one that says she's not only interested, but willing." Doc explained, knowing as he did so, that Chester probably still wouldn't get it.

"Willing to do what?"

Doc turned in exasperation and started to say something sarcastic in reply, when Matt finally rode up to them.

"Hello, Doc, Chester. What are you two up to?" Matt smiled at his friends as he got carefully off of his horse.

"Ah, nothing, Mr. Dillon." Chester answered with an irritated look at Doc.

Doc didn't notice because he was watching the cautious movements the young lawman was making as he dismounted. "Matt, come up to my office, if you would. I want to have a look at you."

"What for?" Matt asked, hoping Doc hadn't noticed anything.

He had. "You're a favoring that left side and I just saw you wince when you got off your horse."

"Gracious, Mr. Dillon." Chester exclaimed. "Are you hurt?"

"No, no." Matt denied. "I'm not hurt. My prisoner and I got into a scuffle is all and I've got a few bruises. It's nothing."

"Yeah, well, I still want you to come up to my office and let me look at that 'nothing'." Doc responded.

"Doc…"

"Now, Matt." Doc said sternly. "I don't want to have to wire the war department on you but I will. Now, I promise it won't take long, so come on."

Matt really didn't want Doc poking and prodding on him, but he was tired and his ribs really were hurting. Besides, by now, he knew Doc well enough to know he'd do what he said. "Alright, Doc. I'm coming."

"Mr. Dillon?" Chester turned concerned eyes on his employer. "Ain't there nothing I can do for ya?"

"Yeah, Chester." Matt answered with a nod towards his horse. "Would you take my horse down to the stable? Tell Moss to give him plenty of grain and a good rub down. He's had a hard ride these last few days."

"I sure will, Mr. Dillon." Chester smiled at his employer and grabbed the horse's reins. "Come on, boy." He coaxed the animal on but stopped a few steps later. " ? After Doc gets through a torturing ya, would you like to have a beer down at the Long Branch? I'll buy." Chester figured his boss being with him, would make the excursion to the saloon more like business and it'd give him another chance to see that new girl down there.

Matt thought that over and decided when Doc got through with him; he'd probably need a beer or something stronger. "Sounds good, Chester." Matt answered. "I'll meet you there in about an hour or so. I'll have to come back here first."

"Alright, Mr. Dillon."

As Chester led Matt's horse off, Matt turned to Doc. "Alright, Doc. Let's get this over with. And while we're at it, maybe you can tell me what's down at the Long Branch that's got Chester willing to buy a round of beers to see."

Doc chuckled as he led the way to his office. "Oh, you'll just have to see for yourself." He grinned.

A little over an hour later, Matt stepped out of his office, ribs wrapped, clean shirt and fresh shave. Doc had finally told him there was a new girl working down there that was just as pretty as a picture. Although Matt had no plan to court the girl, or even show her any interest at all, he didn't want to scare her by looking and smelling like a buffalo, either.

As he was shaving, his mind briefly flickered to the girl he'd seen in the café, the morning he'd left. Doc's description of the new girl fit, but he shook that thought away. The girl in the café was simply that, a girl. And even if she was old enough to work in a saloon, she had looked too refined for that business. No, that girl in the café was class.

Popping his hat on his head and adjusting it, Matt strolled down to the saloon and paused at the doors. He spotted Chester and Doc at the bar talking to a woman, whose back was to him. But there was no mistaking the color of her hair. Idly, he wondered if it was her real hair color. He'd seen plenty of saloon girls dye their hair that color, simply because it was popular.

How he knew their real hair color, he'd never admit, but Matt was a man after all. And just because he was willing to deny himself a wife and family, didn't mean he was willing to deny himself everything. There were times that he'd sought a few hours respite from the pressures of his job there. It was just the way things were.

Finally, he pushed through the doors and made his way over to the bar, remembering it was still a week before his paycheck was due in and he had little in his pockets. So he knew he couldn't stay long.

As he crossed the room, Chester looked up and saw him coming. "Mr. Dillon." Chester waved him over. Looking at the woman beside him, he smiled. "Miss Kitty, this here is Mr. Dillon."

Matt pasted on a smile, but it froze when the woman turned around and he saw the girl from the café. Although, the makeup and suggestive dress, she wore, made her look a little older, he still saw the same young girl whose image had accompanied him on his recent trip. "Uh, Ma'am." He took his hat off and ran his hand through his thick wavy hair, before extending that hand to her. "Nice to meet you."

The girl raised a slender hand to his as she arched a brow in amusement and something else, he wasn't sure of. "Nice to meet you, Cowboy. I'm Kitty Russell."

As Matt shook her hand and tried desperately not to trip over his own tongue, Doc stood to the side watching them. There it was. The look. She had it now, and it was reserved solely for his stoic young friend, the Marshal.

Taking a sip of his beer, Doc grinned.

This was going to be interesting.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Pt. 5

That night, for the first time in a long time, Matt Dillon forgot his job for a while and sat for two solid hours talking to a pretty girl named Kitty. During those two hours, he discovered he was right in some of his assumptions and just as wrong in others.

Although, Kitty was class and had noble beginnings on her mother's side, she also had saloons and gambling in her veins, courtesy of her father. And although she really was just a girl, being only nineteen, she had seen more of life and done more in life than many women twice her age. Matt would never admit it, at least not then, but he was taken with the pretty girl with fiery hair.

It wasn't long after that first night, that Matt developed a sort of routine in his job. Rounds always ended at the Long Branch and he somehow, always found time during the day, when he was in town, to make at least one stop by the saloon.

It would take more than the hours of conversation, Matt shared with the beautiful saloon girl, and more than the occasional moonlit walk, they now started taking when they could, for Matt to admit more than a feeling of friendship for her, but that day was coming.

Those first two hours turned into many more hours which turned into days and finally weeks which turned to months. Matt and Kitty spent endless amounts of time talking. They seldom touched, save Matt occasionally placing his hand at the small of Kitty's back as they walked about town, or she touching his arm when they talked and they never ever kissed, at least not in public, but it was getting around town that something was going on between the two.

Of course, no one said anything overtly to them about it and if they had, it would've been completely denied. But a person would've had to of been blind not to see the tender way they looked at each other and the way their disposition suddenly brightened, no matter how bad the day, when the other's name was mentioned.

Doc certainly noticed and he was tickled pink because of it. He'd come to care a great deal about the both of them and he couldn't see any two people more suited to each other than these two. The only thing that bothered him was that they wouldn't admit they had feelings for each other. If it was this plain to him and others around town, he had no idea why they couldn't see it.

But they either didn't or weren't about to acknowledge it. Doc knew the only thing he could do was be there for the both of them, guide them when they'd let him, and comfort them when they wouldn't. As Doc looked at it, the good Lord above finally gave him a son and daughter and it was his responsibility to look after them both.

Doc just didn't know how hard that would prove to be in the coming years.

Close to a year after Miss Kitty Russell, formerly of New Orleans and a few other places like Abilene, came to Dodge, she and the tall cowboy, Marshal Matt Dillon, had settled into a comfortable relationship of sorts. In each other, they found pieces of themselves they hadn't even known were missing. They would often finish each other's sentences, or know what the other was thinking or feeling, simply by watching for a moment.

Though not inseparable, they were close. Of course, to be certain, they weren't exclusive to one another, either.

Kitty still had to make a living, after all, which included from time to time, a trip upstairs with any man who had the right price, though she made certain that price was high enough that few could afford it. Matt knew she didn't want to, of course, and she scrimped and saved every dime she could to find a way out. She had even taken over the book work for Bill Pence in order to earn extra money, meaning fewer and fewer trips up to her room, with some prancing peacock of a cowboy following eagerly behind.

Matt, being a man, occasionally scratched his itch with one or other of the many lovely ladies willing to oblige him. He gave those women, his time and attention, when they were together, and he always made certain that they were as satisfied as he was when he left their beds. But he was always honest with them as well. He would never love them, regardless of anything physical that might happen between them. They could have fun but nothing else.

But he couldn't bring himself to do that with Kitty. And she would've never considered taking him up those steps as a customer. For the both of them, sex was a natural human act, nothing more. And it had nothing to do with their relationship with each other.

They had something rare and unique and not to be trivialized. And they didn't want anything to interfere with that special connection. They were friends, real friends in a world that often lacked that genuineness. But, although they hadn't realized it themselves just yet, they were more than that.

They took long rides out into the country, ate meals together, sat and talked endlessly over a beer mug, or on really bad days, a shot of whiskey. They even managed to slip out of town a few times for a picnic and a little fishing. The sight of the towering Marshal and the much smaller redhead walking side by side down the streets of Dodge was not an uncommon one and yet, if asked, they would tell anyone, even Doc and Chester, that they were 'just friends.' It was easy to do. They believed that themselves.

But one cold, rainy night, they discovered the truth and from then on they could never go back and denials were saved for other people, people who didn't know.

Because from then on, they knew.

They could no longer deny their feelings for each other, to each other.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Pt. 6

Matt walked swiftly down the board walk, hands stuffed deeply into the pockets of his tan overcoat. He was eager to be out of the cold and wet and into the warmth of the Long Branch and the company of the little redhead, which was the main attraction for him.

It'd been over a week since he'd seen Kitty. He'd ridden out after Jug Mayhew when he'd brazenly robbed the freight office and it had taken Matt a while to catch the hapless bandit and haul him back. Now, with Jug locked up safely in the jail, and Chester sitting watch over him, Matt was going to relax for an hour or so, unless of course, something came up.

The Long Branch was jumping. Matt heard the music and laughter long before he ever got close to the batwing doors, he paused at. There were three poker tables in play and the piano player was working overtime to entertain the players and drinkers as well.

Kitty was sitting at the center one, with a handful of cowboys dealing poker. Inwardly he cringed. He knew how nasty some men could get when they thought the dealer dishonest. And although he knew Kitty was honest, he also knew she was good, very good and very seldom did she lose a hand. That could sometimes be misconstrued as cheating.

Pushing his way into the saloon, Matt gave Kitty a slight tip of the hat as he made way over to the bar. She had looked up the moment he entered and though she continued to play, her eyes stayed with him.

"Evening, Bill." Matt greeted the saloon proprietor. "Looks like business is good tonight."

Bill grinned widely. "Sure is. It's always good when Kitty's dealing. Most men with no luck at all will play cards, just to be able to sit at a table with her. I'll tell ya, Marshal. Hiring her was one of the smartest decisions I ever made."

Matt nodded without reply as he sipped the beer, Pence handed him, and looked around the bar room. The entire room was full of men wanting to get out of the nasty weather into the warm embrace of a saloon girl and a bottle of whiskey.

More than one of those wanted that saloon girl to be Kitty Russell.

Matt knew that was part of her job, although she made it as small a part as possible, and he accepted it for the most part, but it irked him never the less. A saloon girl's life could be dangerous if all she ever did was work the floor. Once she took a man upstairs with her, it was anyone's guess as to how she fared. Some men only obtained pleasure by other's pain.

Matt's stomach would always sour anytime he saw her lead another man upstairs. Each time, he would turn his head and remind himself it was none of his business. She was his friend, not his possession. Still….

Looking back over at the table where Kitty still sat, Matt watched her play for a while. She wore no discernible expression as she looked at the cards in her hand and then at the other men. But he could tell by the way she held the cards and a small, yet visible pulsing at the nape of her lovely neck that she had a winning hand.

He held his breath as she laid the cards down and declared victory. His right hand edged close to his gun as he tensely waited to see if any of the men at the table would challenge her. But with rueful grins all around, each man in turn simply shrugged and accepted defeat at the hands of the pretty girl before them.

With a happy smile to her fellow players, Kitty pulled her winnings to her and then rose from the table. "I'm gonna sit the next hand out, fellas." She told the suddenly disappointed players surrounding her. "I need a little break."

Ignoring the protests and pleas for her to return to the table, Kitty made her way over to the bar and handed her winnings to Bill so that the spoils could be divided up between her and the house. "Hey, there, Matt." She smiled warmly up at him. "I haven't seen you in a while."

Matt nodded. "Yeah, I know Kitty. Took me a while to track down Jug Mayhew and get him back here. I'll tell you what; he gave me a run for my money."

Kitty's smile faltered as her eyes quickly scanned his body for signs that he may have been hurt by the desperado he had brought in. Matt noticed it. "I'm fine." He said quietly. "He didn't lay a hand on me."

Kitty visibly relaxed and her smile returned full force. "So," she asked. "Chester over at the jail looking after him?"

"Yep," Matt answered. "And except for this place, things are pretty quiet, so I thought I'd have myself a beer."

Kitty smiled coquettishly up at him. "That the only reason you came here? I mean, there are other bars in town, ya know."

Matt blushed and searched for a suitable answer, but he was suddenly saved by a cowboy at one of the other poker tables.

"You drew from the bottom of the deck." The young, ragged cow hand accused the dude sitting across from him. "I want my money back."

The gambler, whose name Matt vaguely recalled was Hugh Snyder looked up at the ragtag cowhand and shrugged. "Think what ya want. I drew those cards honest and you lost cowboy. So leave. I'm not giving you nothing back."

Sensing a gunfight about to happen, Matt started forward. "Hold it!" He demanded, just as the cowboy pulled his gun, as did the gambler.

Matt's voice, behind him, startled the young man and he whirled, his finger already on the trigger, and fired. His shot went wide but Matt's didn't.

Neither did Snyder's.

Snyder fired almost as soon as Matt did. The shot he had aimed towards the nameless young cowpoke, found it's mark in Matt instead, spinning him around to land on the filthy floor of the saloon. As he fell, Matt just happened to look back towards the bar to see Kitty clutch her side, where a bright stain suddenly appeared as she dropped to the ground, hitting her head on the bar edge as she fell.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Pt. 7

The bar room stood in stunned silence for several long moments before finally, the spell was broken as Bill rushed around the bar, headed towards Kitty and barking at Clem to go get Doc. Several others gathered around Matt. Hands reached down to help him, but he pushed them and his own pain away as he unsteadily got to his feet and headed towards Kitty.

"She's alive, Marshal." Bill panted as he attempted to lift her up. "But she's hurt bad."

Matt practically shoved the man down as he tenderly bent down and pulled Kitty to him. The pain in his shoulder was forgotten as he lifted her into his arms and started out, headed to Doc's office.

Doc met him at the bottom of the stairs. One look and he knew he was in for a long night. "Can you bring her up?" He asked, noticing the lawman's own wound.

"I got her." Matt said through gritted teeth. He wasn't about to acknowledge his own need of medical care until hers was attended to.

As he climbed, it dawned on him how important she had become to him. Somehow, that fiery little redhead had pushed past all of the barriers he had erected and claimed his heart and soul with her infectious laugh and a blue eyed smile that could light up even the darkest of spaces. If she were to die, he knew his life would never be the same.

Only when he'd laid her gently on Doc's exam table, did Matt finally admit, to himself at least, that he was hurt too. Looking down at the torn flesh of his shoulder, he saw just how much damage the bullet as well as his carrying Kitty had done to it. But he didn't regret his actions. She was worth whatever pain he had to endure to protect her.

Doc looked intently at the both of them, as he followed Matt in, and decided to attend to Kitty first.

"Go on into the other room and lay down, Matt." He ordered the wounded and worried law man. "Put this on that wound and hold it there firmly until I can look at it."

He handed Matt a thick wad of cloth, which Matt accepted and applied it to his shoulder but he still didn't move. "Doc…?" He started to ask but Doc waved him off.

"Do what I said, Matt. Go on in there and lay down. I'll come to you as soon as I take care of her."

He nodded, understanding that Doc would need to undress her in order to treat her. Turning towards the back room of Doc's office and home, he paused. "Will she be alright?"

"I don't know yet, Matt." Doc said, trying valiantly to keep his own emotions at bay. "Now go on, I'll come for you when I'm done here."

Swallowing hard, Matt took one last look at Kitty and then left the room.

Doc turned his attention back to Kitty and gently began to undress her so that he could see how badly she was hurt. Upon examination, he was a little more than pleased to find that the bullet had done very little damage as it had basically hit her in the left side, skimmed around her ribcage and exited through a slightly larger hole in the back. The bullet had hit no internal organs or major arteries.

Treating her would be a simple matter of sewing up both holes and making sure the wound didn't become infected. After tending to that, he completed his examination of her and discovered a rather large lump on the side of her head. She must've hit her head on something, the bar maybe, when she fell, causing her to black out. Yet another thing he would need to monitor.

As he finished taking care of her and pulled the sheet up over her still unconscious form, he realized how lucky they'd been. If that bullet had of gone just a couple of inches to the right, he'd be pulling the sheet a lot further up than just to her chin.

With a relieved scrub of his mustache, Doc washed his hands and then his instruments and quickly re-sterilized them before heading into the back room to treat his other patient.

As he expected, Matt had eschewed the bed in favor of pacing the room, his right hand holding the bandage tightly to his shoulder. He stopped when Doc entered and started for him. "How is she?"

"Better than you are." Doc answered. "I thought I told you to lie down."

"I don't need to lie down." Matt told him, although the way he was currently wavering on his feet gave lie to that. "I need to know how she is."

Doc tugged at his ear with a shake of his head as he sat his bundle of instruments on the bed side table and took Matt by the arm, steering him towards the bed. "She had little more than a flesh wound and a bump on the head. She's resting. Now lie down here and let me look at that shoulder of yours."

With a sigh of relief, Matt finally acquiesced and sat down heavily on the side of the bed. "You sure she's going to be alright?" He questioned as Doc removed the bloody cloth and began to pull his shirt away to examine the wound. "I mean, shouldn't you be in there with her or something?"

"She's just in the other room, Matt." Doc shook his head in exasperation. "I can hear her if she stirs. It's you I'm worried about. Now, you either take that shirt off and lay back there, or I'll give you a knot to match hers."

Suspecting Doc just might do it, Matt sighed and finally complied, passing out almost immediately.

"Good." Doc muttered as he knuckled his mustache. "Keeps me from having to put you out." Taking a glance back into the other room, Doc saw Kitty hadn't moved and was still completely out. Leaving the door ajar so that he could hear if she woke, Doc went back to the bed and his second and most seriously wounded patient.

As he began to work, Doc shook his head with a grin as a thought occurred to him. "A pair to draw to. These two are most certainly a pair to draw to."

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Pt. 8

"What are you doing up?" Doc scowled at Kitty when he walked into the back room to find her once again, sitting in a hard chair beside Matt, anxiously watching over him. He'd only stepped out for a couple of minutes to attend to personal business but that had been all it took for her to get out of bed, once again, and find her way to Matt.

"You need to go right back in there and lay down, young lady, before you pull those stitches out. I told you he'd be alright. The fever's broke now and he's just sleeping." He grumped at her.

Worried azure eyes looked up at Doc and then back at Matt. "It's been four days, Doc, three of them with a fever. I'm worried about him. He… he… I… I just am."

Doc sighed deeply, knowingly. The cowboy marshal and the saloon girl. Just the kind of story, books were written about, only this wasn't a story and Matt and Kitty weren't fictional characters in a book. They were real, and to him, almost family.

In one short year they had gone from friendly acquaintances to casual friends to best friends, to now something much deeper. Doc didn't believe they were lovers, but he had his suspicions that wouldn't be long in coming. It was already to the point that neither one was willing to take care of themselves, if it meant that the other would go unattended, even for a moment. Doc realized that would have to be his role to take care of the both of them.

"I know you are, honey and I understand. But you're recovering from a bullet wound too and you need every bit as much rest as he does or you'll be sick in that bed beside him."

Doc hadn't given his words much thought, until he saw the look on Kitty's face when he'd said them. He blanched and shook his head. "Oh, no. You… you…" he stuttered. "Kitty, I…"

"What?" Kitty asked innocently. "It's not like I've never been in bed with a man before, Doc."

Doc blushed and loudly cleared his throat but looking at her he saw the determination in her blue eyed gaze. "It's not proper, Kitty." He protested even though he knew, he'd already lost the battle.

"The only thing that's not proper about it, is that we're both too hurt to do anything more than lie side by side." She wickedly arched a brow at him. "Besides, Doc, think about how much easier it'll be for you to have both of us in one place and following your orders."

Turning away in consternation, Doc sighed again, this time even deeper, before heading towards the door, unwilling to look at her, afraid she'd see his feelings on the matter in his watery blue eyes. "Do what you want, you will anyway. But you'd better not do anything besides just lie there, you hear me."

"I hear ya, Doc." Kitty smiled as the old man left the room and she carefully made her way around to the other side of the bed and even more carefully settled herself in beside the still sleeping giant, laying her head close to his on the pillow.

She knew how it would look to anyone, should they see the spectacle of the saloon girl in bed with the Marshal, but she wasn't concerned with that.

And she knew Doc's concerns, besides how it looked. He didn't want either one of them to do anything that might jeopardize their health or their friendship. But she wasn't worried about that either. It was way too soon for anything of that nature to happen between them.

She wasn't even worried about her own health and recovery because she now knew, without Matt in her life, little else would matter. From the moment she'd first laid eyes on him, he had captured her heart and soul and willing captive though she was, she was still a captive to his blue eyes and crooked smile and big heart.

She now realized completely, just how much she loved Matt and though he'd made no mention of having the same feelings towards her, she hadn't missed the way he would look at her sometimes and the fierce protectiveness he often displayed towards her. Matt might not ever say it, might not even know it himself, but she knew, he loved her too.

Unable to do little else, due to the injuries she was still recovering from, Kitty reached down and took Matt's hand and held it tightly in hers, nestling her head against his and went to sleep with a gentle smile on her lips.

Several hours later, Matt awoke to a warmth on his right side and a strong grip of his right hand. Looking over, he saw Kitty beside him, fast asleep, her hand holding his. Looking towards the window, he could tell it was dark out. He didn't know how long he'd been there, or how long Kitty had lain beside him, but he didn't care.

In normal circumstances, Matt would've been appalled at the brazenness of a saloon girl climbing into bed with him while he lay unconscious. But this wasn't just some saloon girl. This was Kitty and her presence was more than welcome. In fact, her presence was needed and just felt right.

Although they had never shared more than just a chaste kiss on a few occasions, he suddenly realized, Kitty was where she was supposed to be, right next to him. Somehow she had wormed her way into his heart and whether he wanted it or not, she was there to stay.

He still wasn't planning on marrying her. He didn't feel he had the right to do that to any girl, especially not her. He fully expected to be dead before he reached the ripe old age of 30, and he had no intentions of leaving behind a widow or family to grieve for him and try to fend for themselves, as his father had.

But as long as he was alive, he would love her. He would protect her, defend her and do anything to be with her, when his job would allow. Because Matt Dillon had finally found the other half of his soul. The half he hadn't even realized was missing, until a little girl with red hair, blue eyes and the temerity to love him, without strings, had attached herself to him with a tie so strong that he doubted even death would break it.

Shifting himself just slightly in the bed, Matt managed to bring his right arm up and place it around the sleeping woman beside him, pulling her into his arms, where she stayed as he slipped back off to sleep, unconsciously echoing the smile she still wore.

Later that night, when Doc came in to check on them, he found a sight that warmed him more than any fire ever could. One ruggedly handsome young marshal and one beautiful young girl, fast asleep in each other's arms. Making a quick check of their well-being, Doc smiled happily as he tiptoed out of the room, and softly closed the door behind him.

His patients were going to be just fine from now on, no matter what life threw at them, because they finally had their other half.

The End


End file.
